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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868342">Devilry | Loki x</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyCherry/pseuds/AudreyCherry'>AudreyCherry</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:36:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,517</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyCherry/pseuds/AudreyCherry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lilian Edenson is both a Professor in Philosophy and owner of a marveled antique shoppe in NYC. Two strange figures have approached on the same day to recruit her for two different causes. Along the way she will make an enemy in one cause, but a friend and partner in the other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Loki x OC</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“A life is a simple thing, but it becomes complicated when that life is more than just an obedient vessel. There are people who live among us whose very being is to be disobedient to ‘the laws of nature’. Obedience is not a virtue. It’s not a thing to commend. Blind obedience is nothing more than slavery at its core. The will — the tenacity for deviation — that’s worthy of praise.” <br/>The room was dead silent. Hundreds of eyes wandered; very few were paying attention to the Professor and her lecture. <br/>A hand rose. “What are you insinuating, Professor?”<br/>The Professor turned her focus onto the student. A slight grin appeared on her chapped lips. “Nothing at all. I am simply challenging you all to be different and not to vilify those who are different.”<br/>The student nodded, a frown clear on their face. It wasn’t a bad frown, more of one that had been provoked with a heavy idea and they were determined to understand it. They then wrote in their notebook attentively with all their coloured pens and highlighters. <br/>The Professor reverted her gaze to her mentally absent audience. Knowing that at least one mind paying attention to her view comforted her at least. “Right then, before I dismiss you all,” the room was filled with chatter now. “This lecture is to be on your finals come May fourth. I hope you were all listening.” That caught their attention. She grinned to herself as a bellow of whines and groans filled the auditorium. <br/>As if practised, everyone gathered their belongings in unison. In the corner of the Professor’s eye, she saw a dark figure move on the top row and exit through the fire escape doors; the alarm failed to go off. Her eyes lingered on the shadowed corner that was gently illuminated by the red glow of the EXIT sign above the door. She had seen this figure throughout the lecture but chose to not interrupt the session to sate her curiosity and uneasiness because of a disturbance only she was aware of. She had a very large class of students but also could tell with certainty she had never seen whoever that was before. It felt as if whoever it was was waiting to be noticed - trying to communicate something with just their presence alone. Their towering posture so asserting and sure, their arms crossed in front of their chest showing they were growing impatient, and then their head tilted in such a way forward, the Professor could recognize a piercing gaze even when their face was shadowed. <br/>“Professor… Professor?” Waved the student from before. <br/>The Professor’s eyes snapped to the student, “Yes?”<br/>“Are you okay?” they asked with genuine concern as they looked at the same corner in curiosity.<br/>She nodded. “Yes. I am. Thank you…” She let out a soft sigh and brushed a strand of her raven black hair behind her ear. <br/>The student was hesitant to believe her, but continued, not wanting to push any further. “Professor… I was wondering… are the people you spoke of the ones who, you know… disobey with their very being… Do you mean mutants? And people like Ironman and Captain America?” they asked as they watched the Professor dig in her bag and pull out some chapstick.<br/>She hummed in agreement, rubbing her lips together to spread it, then tossed the chapstick back in her bag. “My, aren’t you a bright one?” She grinned. “Yes, I do mean people like Mr. Stark andMr. Rogers. They are both different. Even when compared to each other. If you listen to your history professors, as well as, you listen here, then I am sure you know Mr. Rogers is different due to a military science experiment. As for Mr. Stark… he is normal as far as being a basic human goes. But what makes him different isn’t his wealth. It is his brains and stubborn will.” She sat down in her desk chair as she watched the student nod in understanding. “They have the tenacity to deviate from the norm of obeying.”<br/>The student’s brows knitted for a second, “But isn’t Cap’s whole thing to obey?”<br/>The Professor chuckled, “You might think that, yes. Even he would, I’m sure. In the military, especially at the time of World War Two, obedience was and still is expected. However, Mr Rogers was more than just a soldier. He disobeyed direct orders many times, but the military doesn’t want you to know that.” She winked. “Your history professor is the gentleman from the Marine Corps, is he not?”<br/>They nodded.<br/>“There you go. They exclude such factoids from your lectures because they don’t want someone getting any ideas. They don’t want people to deviate or else they’ll lose their control over you.” She then stood from her seat and grabbed her leather briefcase. “You don’t need to have money, be a mutant, or a lab rat to be one of those people who deviate. You can be a normal person just like you or myself. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” she shuffled around her desk. “I need coffee before attending to my shoppe.”<br/>The student nodded again, “Of course. Thank you, Professor,” they waved.<br/>“No. Thank you for listening,” she said before popping the auditorium door open with her back then turning to leave.</p><p>The early May sun was unseasonably blazing. The Professor would have sworn she was down in the southern states if it weren’t for the obsessive honking and claustrophobic nature of downtown New York City. As she stood outside her classroom in a large courtyard, she pulled a black cap from her bag and some sunglasses and put them on. The surroundings, now tinted dark brown, comforted her. University students and professors walked all over campus, attempting to handle their scheduled responsibilities in a timely manner. <br/>She started to make her way through the courtyard when a cyclist rushed right in front of her, nearly hitting her.<br/>“Sorry, Professor!” The cyclist yelled out as they rode away.<br/>The Professor sighed and continued walking.<br/>“Professor! Professor! Could I have a moment, please?” shouted another student from her side--this one wore a beanie and scarf as she always did.<br/>The Professor looked over to see who it was and let out another sigh. “Class has already ended, Miss Lewis” she waved off the student as she kept walking.<br/>“I know,” the student rushed over to walk with the Professor. “I know, and I’m sorry, but Professor… could you please take my paper? I know it’s late, but… could you? Please? Things have been so hectic where I intern. We’re coming up on some really wild-”<br/>The Professor stopped, which caught the student off guard. She looked at her student long and hard searching for any sign of disingenuous means, but she could find none and outstretched her hand. <br/>The student looked down at her The Professor’s hand.<br/>“Well? Do you want me to take it or not?” The Professor nudged.<br/>Stumbling for her words, the student nodded vigorously and rushed to pull out her padfolio from her satchel. “Right! Of course, my paper! Here it is, Professor,” she handed it to her. “Thank you so much, Professor!” She then ran off.<br/>“Of course,” she said to herself and tucked the padfolio under her arm.<br/>The Professor finally could continue her stroll to the coffee shoppe. She turned the corner and there it was: Adam’s Coffee Co. The coffee shoppe was panelled with an emerald green moulding with a charcoal coloured sign. The Professor walked past a very large parlour window and entered through the window-paned doors.<br/>The bell above the door sang its tune when the Professor entered the shoppe. The smell of strong coffee filled the air, ridding her nose of the taxi exhaust from outside. <br/>“Ah, it feels much better in here. It’s blistering out there!” she gestured with her thumb behind her as she approached the counter.<br/>The barista looked past her out the large parlour window and made a peculiar face. “Oh, nah! Those are icicles hanging off the roof trim, lady.” He crossed his arms. “If it was as hot as you say, I wouldn’t be here talking with such a pretty lady. I’d be out there in Cancun tanning my beautiful skin!” he winked.<br/>Even with shades on, she could tell this barista had anything but a perfect complexion with so many ghoulish scars covering his entire face. She smiled and nodded. “Of course, silly me. It has to be at least below zero,” she said, playing along.<br/>“That’s right. Thanks for making a guy feel better about his poor life decisions. Wanna know how I got these scars?”<br/>“I’m sorry?”<br/>“Wait… no, wrong universe… Nevermind me. Now! What can I do you for?” he verbally jumped around.<br/>The Professor chuckled softly, but she couldn’t quite tell if it was because of the awkward encounter or if she actually found him amusing. “Black. Iced. And make it a large… that’s all.”<br/>“Iced?! In this freezing weather?” He joked. “Alright then, one black coffee for a hottie with a body comin’ right up, Princess.” he sang as he submitted the order on his iPad. “You owe... the Devil his sum today. Card?” He stuck out his hand.<br/>The Professor looked down at the total and indeed it was $6.66. “Would you look at that,” she said with an emotionless smile and handed him her card, noticing the scars on the Barista’s extended hand.<br/>“Thank you for selling your soul here with us today at Adam’s Coffee Co.,” he recited, then swiped the card and handed it back. “You’re all paid up. I’ll be right back.” <br/>The Professor moved to the pickup side of the counter and looked around. The coffee shop was eerily vacant. She leaned against the wall and watched the pedestrians go about their lives outside. <br/>“So…” she began. “You’re a new hire?”<br/>The barista turned his head. “Huh? Oh yeah! Started this new sweet gig just the other day. Thought I could meet all the smartie hotties from the university next door.” He joked. “You asking because you’re a regular?”<br/>The Professor nodded, “Yeah, I try to come in everyday. Twice a day if I need it.” The Barista didn’t respond. <br/>A few seconds later, the barista walked towards the counter, coffee in hand. “One large order of my black icy soul to keep you cool when you get all hot and bothered.” he cheered as he placed it on the counter, sliding it closer to her. <br/>The professor smiled. “Thank you…” she looked at the man’s name tag, “... Wade,” and she handed him a ten-dollar bill. “Don’t tell Adam,” she winked.<br/>Wade the Barista was speechless as he took the ten. <br/>“See you tomorrow?” She smiled and left the coffee shop. <br/>She took a sip of her iced coffee as she stood at the edge of the sidewalk. She lifted her arm high, “Taxi!” At a second’s notice, a taxi appeared. She turned to look back through the glass of the coffee shop and waved at the Barista. He waved back, and she slid herself into the back seat of the yellow vehicle. She leaned forward to the driver, “Empyrean Antiques, thank you.”<br/>The ride was silent and long. Traffic was heavy, as it usually was on a Monday at five o’clock. The Professor stared out the window as they slowly passed many old buildings and people walking in a hurry. She wondered further who--or what--could possibly been the dark figure from earlier, but it was no use worrying. Her eyes trailed as she people watched, something she found herself doing, trying to understand the nature of man in a deeper context. When they turned a corner, the Professor saw into an alleyway, dark and damp, just as one would suspect. Deep in the alley, for just the couple of seconds it was visible, she could see a group of school bullies ganging up on a small child. The petty crime in Manhattan seemed as though it was always increasing. She shook her head and looked away. Not too long after, they finally arrived. She handed the driver the money, then stepped out of the car onto the sidewalk. It was much cooler on this side of town. The sun was behind the antique shoppe, which cast enormous shadows. <br/>The building was one of the oldest in the grand City of New York, for it was only four stories high and marketed as a single-family home which was very rare and very expensive. The ground floor was decorated with a creamy brown limestone, as the top floors were red brick and ornamented with light brown trim. It had wide cherry wood double doors on its entrance, evident it was once a firehouse just over a hundred years ago. Atop the door, on the moulding, was a sign, Empyrean Antiques.<br/>The Professor entered the building, leaving the closed sign visible to passersby. The room smelt like a library with old books. It was dark, only the dimming light from outside shone through the windows illuminating all the old trinkets the Professor had in her collection: vases, glorified paperweights, original paintings, tapestries, and furniture from all over. Dust particles floated through the air as she walked down the aisle to her counter, but she stopped midway there. <br/>A large dark figure stood behind the counter lazily viewing through her ledgers. “A life is a simple thing, but it becomes complicated when that life is more than just an obedient vessel. There are people who live among us whose very being is to be disobedient to ‘the laws of nature’.” The figure recited with a deep voice; it belonged to an older man. “Professor Dr Lilian Edenson, is it?” Before the Professor could respond, the figure spoke again, “No. I don’t think it is…” his hand trailed the bookshelf. “Those are some true words you spoke at your lecture today. I’m sure if more of your students listened, it would have surprised them to know you’re absolutely right.” <br/>“Who are you?” Dr Edenson demanded. Her tone was firm and calm. She wasn’t scared, but she was very defensive in her stance. Behind her, she held her hand in a stressed gesture, magenta sparks emitting from her fingertips.<br/>The figure turned around, “Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. and I’m here on business.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter Two - Recruitments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Who are you?” Edenson demanded. <br/>The figure turned around, “Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D., and I’m here on business.” The man stated. <br/>He eyed the Professor’s stance and noted the magenta light emitting from behind her. She appeared calm but well on guard, just as he expected. It showed that her powers came to her effortlessly. Her eyes watched him closely; he had dark skin, wore a high collar black leather trench coat, and had an eyepatch over his left eye. To a normal person, he would appear quite intimidating. Neither of them faltered under the intense gaze of the other. <br/>“After some heavy deliberating, my people and I have decided it might do us some good if you were to join our cause.”<br/>“S.H.I.E.L.D.?” her defensive stance remained as she became hesitant. “I’ve heard of you people a long time ago. What do you want with me?” <br/>“I want you to save the world. A powerful man has come here looking for some trouble, and I think you might be able to help us with that.”<br/>Edenson relaxed. The magenta glow of her hands dissipated, and she approached her counter, no longer taken by the Director’s presence. She set down her case and now empty coffee, “I believe you have the wrong person. I am no super-powered hero. You’re looking in the wrong places for your... church group. Stark Tower is a mile uptown. Visit him or Mr Rogers. They seem to be doing quite well for themselves these days.”<br/>Director Fury chuckled to himself, “That fancy red glow of yours says otherwise. And, they’ll sign on… soon enough. I’m sure of it,” he claimed, ominously. He moved around, away from the ledgers and closer to Edenson. “You’re a very hard woman to find… but I know you’re who I think you are. You may not be a Hero now, Professor...” He stepped around the counter and stood in front of Edenson handing her his card. “... but you sure can change that.”<br/>She turned to him. “How did you find me?”<br/>“Years of searching. Just know it was a surprise to find you were a Professor of Philosophy and also owned this shop.” Director Fury looked around, taking in the dusty antique surrounding. “Quite on the nose if you ask me, didn’t think someone like you would hide in plain sight. But don’t worry, no one else knows who you are but me and my people.” <br/>Edenson looked down at the business card she held in her hands. Director Nickolas J. Fury. Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. She flipped the card over in her hand and it was blank.<br/>“Here’s the debriefing folder on what we know so far on the threat…” He reached inside his worn black leather trench coat and pulled out a thick enclosed envelope, setting it on the counter. “This is some heavy stuff I have in here. If you choose to join, we’ll have more for you to get in on.”<br/>“Who’s this ‘very powerful man’?” she asked, eyeing the package. She looked back at Fury. “I don’t play well with powerful men.”<br/>“Oh, I know, and that’s why I want you on the team. His name is Loki, he’s not from around here…”<br/>“I know of him. Not by your stories. Your stories of the Norse Gods are…. questionable at best.” She fiddled with the business card in her hands. <br/>“Anything we need to know about him?”<br/>“From what I’ve heard…. He’s one tricky bastard, and I think you may know how incredible that must be coming from me.”<br/>Director Fury hummed in response. “Duly noted.” He pointed to the card, “Contact me if you decide to lend a helping hand, Professor…. Doctor?” he questioned what to refer to her as. “I hope we’re right about you, and what history has accused you of are just… works of fiction.”<br/>She looked down at the card again. “Yeah, about that… the back of the—” but when she looked back up, the Director was gone. “—blank.” Edenson scoffed and threw the card onto the counter; it slid, spinning in place. She walked to the other side of the counter and pulled out one of her ledgers for the shoppe, turning on a lamp in the process. <br/>Some time had passed where she stood reading through her documents, trying to determine how well her business was performing this quarter. Every now and again, she would glance over at the folder Director Fury had left her. With each look, her curiosity grew. <br/>His name is Loki.<br/>Here’s the debriefing folder on what we know so far about the threat.<br/>You may not be a Hero now, Professor… but you can sure change that.<br/>The Director’s distinct voice rattled in her head. She fought the temptation to look into the files, but willpower was never one of her strong suits. With a frustrated huff, she snatched the envelope, reading ‘S.H.I.E.L.D. LEVEL 7 CLEARANCE’, and unpackaged the file. The first thing she saw was a photograph of a large cube glowing an ethereal blue. <br/>“The Tesseract.” A voice said.<br/>The Professor’s head shot up and before her, on the other side of the counter, stood another man. An old gentleman in a blue suit, who had a receding hairline, and a bulbous broken nose. <br/>Edenson’s fingertips sparkled with their magenta hue again. “Who the hell are you?” <br/>“Not as welcoming as you were to the last man who stepped foot in your… personalized time machine…” the strange man said as he looked around and gently ran a finger on an ancient relic that sat on a shelf--a glass enclosed box ornamented with frill golden metals, inside held a mummified head of one of the first Christain Saints, his body lost to time. “The name is Mobius M. Mobius, just as the last, I am here on business, but… mine is of a greater importance.”<br/>“How do you know someone else was here? How many of you people are spying on me?” she demanded.<br/>“Not spying, Miss Edenson. Observing,” he corrected as he rubbed his thumb and index together to rid his fingertips of any dust he had picked up. “You see,” he began pacing, “somewhere down the line, in some reality, you… how do I say this?” He stopped and looked at her directly. “You fucked up. I am sure you are familiar with Vlad Tepes the Impaler?”<br/>She stayed quiet.<br/>“I know you do. To keep things quick, The Impaler won and has obtained the means for universal domination even across timelines.”<br/>“That’s impossible. He’s dead,” Edenson insisted.<br/>“To you, yes, but to Earth-832 he is not.”<br/>“I’m sorry… What organization did you say you were from again?”<br/>“The Time Variance Authority, or the TVA for short.”<br/>“And that is?”<br/>“An infinitely vast bureaucracy that governs a significant number of realities in the ever-growing multiverse. It has dedicated itself to keeping tabs on every reality that exists for millennia.”<br/>“Oh, riiight. Of course,” she groaned facetiously.<br/>“You may think this of no concern to you now, Miss Edenson, but I can assure you this is no small matter. Many worlds beyond your understanding are at risk,” the man claimed. He then waved his arm at his side, and between him and Edenson, appeared holographic screens--five panels, large and transparent--showcasing the kinds of atrocities he spoke of. <br/>There was one recording in particular that caught the professor’s attention. On the screen was The Impaler and herself. She recognized the architecture and the surrounding devastation, but it did not show the event that haunted her for as long as she had remembered it.<br/>“What is that?” She grew angry with an overwhelming fit of emotion, magenta sparked from her fingertips in a fiery fury.<br/>“Earth-832, Miss Edenson,” the man stated.<br/>The recording was six seconds of footage that replayed like a broken record. The cracking of heavy blazing fires and wailing screams were just ambient noise - exactly how she remembered it, but what was different was the circumstance. Laid broken-back, in architectural ruins, was herself. Through her core was a large wooden stake, splintering inside of her. Her blood had become a hardened black crust, suggesting she had laid there for some time. At her side knelt a familiar man, pale and dressed in black. He leaned over into her ear to whisper something, kissed her forehead gently and as he pulled back to look at her, he ripped off her head. <br/>Edenson’s hands trembled slightly and flinched each time she heard the ripping of her own head from her body as if it was the only noise in the recording, everything else fell to a drowning mute. “Turn it off,” she breathed.<br/>“Miss Edenson, I’m sure you now realise the gravity of the situation I have presented before you—”<br/>“I said, turn it off!” Her eyes emitted the same magenta glow of her hands. The building rattled at the sound of her voice - deep and demented. Her hands were tense and magenta balls of energy curled in her open palms. She fazed through the counter and stepped towards the man who caused her pain to re-surge.<br/>The man was not bothered as to what was happening. “Miss Edenson, I do not intimidate easily, nor do I at all. I have no intention of leaving here without your compliance.” <br/>“I do not know what it is you showed me, but I do know what occurred on the tape is false. I killed him, not the other way around. If what you want with me involves him, then I want no part in it. I do not want to see that man ever again.”<br/>“Then it is not only your death, but all of reality beyond realities.”<br/>Edenson was provoked by this. At her side, she clenched her right hand, the ball of energy surrounding itself around her hand as some split off to enclose itself around the man’s neck, and in doing so caused him to suddenly gasp for air.<br/>Through hard sharp breaths, the man struggled to speak. “M-Miss Edenson… Please reconsider… You’re… You’re the only one who can contain him.”<br/>She relaxed her hand and the man bent over, gasping for air. “If I was able to contain him, Mr. Mobius… He wouldn’t be dead… nor trying to conquer realms beyond time as you claim.”<br/>Mr Mobius, with one hand on his knee and the other on his throat, slowly stood back up straight and adjusted his tie. He cleared his throat. “Yes, but you are also the only one who can kill him…” <br/>“Say, if I were to help you… what would you need me to do?”<br/>He cautiously stepped towards the counter with SHIELD’s files and tapped on the open page which showed the Tesseract. “First, I need you to join this SHIELD organization. It will get you the intel and accessories you need. Back at ATV, we received an alert showing an anomaly here that’s soon to occur. A man by the name of Loki has stolen the tesseract—”<br/>“Loki? I already know he’s an issue. Are you one of Director Fury’s goons here to trick me into joining your super secret squad of holy amens?” she scoffed.<br/>“No. Loki has already stolen the Tesseract as we speak, but when and if you succeed in assisting S.H.I.E.L.D. take him down, there will come a time where Loki is to steal it again. Then that’s when we come in.” He picked up the page and shook it for emphasis. “This cube is a doorway to anywhere in space. Loki isn’t meant to obtain this again for quite some time. It’s not meant to happen so soon, but it did. We need you to—”<br/>“Keep Loki from stealing it a second time? I don’t see how that involves Vlad.”<br/>“No…” Mr Mobius said irritably, “I need you to insure it does happen, and I need you to be there, with him, when it does. Then the rest will play out when we see you again for phase two.”<br/>Edenson gently traced her neck with her fingertips, “Very well... I’ll help you.”<br/>“Good.” Mr Mobius said simply.<br/>When she went to look up at him, he was gone.<br/>She looked at  the tesseract on the piece of paper and then at the business card Director Nick Fury had left her. She slowly picked it up and examined the card, wondering how she would contact him.</p>
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